My submissions to the Bulwer-Lytton contest of awful writing

[Esn]

http://www.bulwer-lytton.com/

The basic premise is writing the most horrible opening sentence to a book of fiction that you can think of.

Check out the 2008 winners for some great examples. All the winning entrants of past years can be found on Wikipedia.

I submitted two sentences this year, one in the sci-fi/adventure genre, another in the fantasy genre:

1)
"That's the last time I go parachuting," thought Bob Bobovich (who was by-and-large a quiet and reasonable fellow, and yet who now found himself quite flustered after finding himself stuck trailing behind the wing of a very fast-moving space shuttle which his parachute had inexplicably got caught up in during its launch) worriedly, anxiously remembering that his wife and ten kids expected him to take them to the Star Trek convention that night; a thing which would not now, unfortunately, be possible, due to the aforementioned circumstance which had, alas, surprised him as nothing had since that time this morning when he had consumed a rotten burrito that was now, to his embarrassment and to the imminent dismay of the crowd watching the spectacle below, finally taking its leave of him.

2)
In the dark land of Hhhrukk does the beginning of this tale start, before the East-Hhhrukkian steel-studded Hroggarr warriors had managed to encase the Great Jewel of Eswelthiorr in despondent darkness, before the coming of the West-Hhhrukkian Great Gladiators of Graarokh who would keep the continent under their vile rule for a thousand cycles; and yet after the South-Hhhrukkian Sorcerors of Exolria had unleashed the power of the Emerald Demons of the Westhian Mountains, and after the pub in the small North-Hhhrukkian town of Urgoth had closed for the night a little earlier than usual because the Priests of Haarrakharr had re-awakened the Great Beast of Khujn, whose giant slobbering gullet was now feasting on the tender hearts of peasants who had been bred for just such a purpose.

Some of my favourite examples from past years:

Winner: Fantasy Fiction (2008)

"Toads of glory, slugs of joy," sang Groin the dwarf as he trotted jovially down the path before a great dragon ate him because the author knew that this story was a train wreck after he typed the first few words.

Alex Hall
Greeley, CO

Winner: Science Fiction (2008)
Timothy Hanson, Commander of the 43rd Space Regiment in the 52nd Battalion on board the USAOPAC (United Space Alliance Of Planets Attack Carrier) and second in command to Admiral L. R. Morris of the USAOP Space Command, awoke early for breakfast.

Joe Schulman
Cartersville, GA

Winner (2007)
Gerald began—but was interrupted by a piercing whistle which cost him ten percent of his hearing permanently, as it did everyone else in a ten-mile radius of the eruption, not that it mattered much because for them "permanently" meant the next ten minutes or so until buried by searing lava or suffocated by choking ash—to pee.

Jim Gleeson
Madison, WI

Winner (1993)

She wasn't really my type, a hard-looking but untalented reporter from the local cat box liner, but the first second that the third-rate representative of the fourth estate cracked open a new fifth of old Scotch, my sixth sense said seventh heaven was as close as an eighth note from Beethoven's Ninth Symphony, so, nervous as a tenth grader drowning in eleventh-hour cramming for a physics exam, I swept her into my longing arms, and, humming "The Twelfth of Never," I got lucky on Friday the thirteenth.

Wm. W. "Buddy" Ocheltree
Port Townsend, Washington

[Sigfried]

one word...AWESOME!!

[Esn]

Thanks, Sig!

And... a few more...

3)
"SPLAT!" went the pancake, unaware that it was being watched by the heedful eye of Gilbert von Binkendorf, who was thinking about what a fitting metaphor it was for the way that the alien invaders from Planet Xoron had utterly squashed the Earth's resistance shortly after their arrival yesterday at around 0700 hours Eastern Time.

4)
"Bloop" went the tuba; "blaart" went the trombone, and as the opera house shook in cadence to the gentle music, it was suddenly – Blam! Blast! Tinkle – demolished as the wayward Classical Channel-owned radio satellite – an ironic "coincidence", thought Jim the police detective later – crashed into it with the vengeance of a million of the world's smallest violins crashing into something.

5)
"I am invincible!" yelled Thagar the Barbarian with great loudness as his rippling, muscular arm plunged his enormous, savage blade into the tender, throbbing flesh of the terrified, cowardly soldiers of the evil, oppressive Hurke Empire, but alas he was not, although he would not be dead for another 32 years and 56 days.

6)
There was a time—long gone by, alas—when I had—heavens, how the memory of it yet stirs passions inside of me!—been in contact with a lass—a rather shapely lass, and she was a good friend of mine—of great—that is to say, because of her beauty—renown far—at least 30 kilometres from her hometown, a distance which I had verified at a later point in this tale; near the end of it, in fact—from her extraordinarily humble—I take care to not exaggerate—birth-place.

#5 was inspired by "The Eye of Argon". Read it; it's awful.